The book lay in his lap, forgotten. Daniel's eyes were cast upon the far wall where his artefacts from Abydos sat, carefully guarded by the stone likeness of Bast. It wasn't much, in fact considering he had spent so much time there one would think his collection would be massive. Instead the lit shelf held a ceramic bowl just large enough to fit between his palms, the rock he and his wife had used to ground meal, some small spattterings of worn material, and a tiny vial of sand. Sha're had laughed when he collected the sand, seeing as how they were surrounded by it. That was shortly after Ra had been defeated and Jack had returned through the gate. He had stood high upon a dune, looking at the double moons and marveled at the fact that he was in fact on an alien planet on the other side of the known universe. He had fingered the vial and scooped sand into it, just in case, just in case something happened and none of it turned out to be real. And Sha're had laughed.

Now all he had was the sand.

The sudden pound at the door shook the wall. Daniel leapt forwards, steadying the shelf , then tried to steady his heart. He hurried to the door before more pounding could upset his treasures, half wondering if Mrs. Newburn had taken a fall down the stairs again. His neighbor was a constant cause of worry, he really felt she should be living on the ground floor. . .he flung the door open and gaped as he found himself face to face with a towering mass of dark holding a box. "Teal'c!"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Are you well, DanielJackson?"

"Yes! Yes, you just startled me. . .what are you doing here?" He continued to gape. Teal'c never visited him at home. He and Jack would stop by to pick him up, but a social visit? "Wait, is something wrong?"

Teal'c looked disturbed. "I find it disheartening that people seem to think I contact them only to bring bad news."

"Oh. I'm-I'm sorry, no, I just. . .what's in the box?"

"Might I enter?"

"Oh! Right, sorry." Daniel stepped aside. Teal'c entered slowly, deliberately, then raised his eyes to examine the room.

"I see you have made an attempt to redecorate."

Daniel smiled briefly. "Rearranged, actually. I seem to accumulate more things than I have room for. Sam helped me, she has a knack for organization."

"So I see."

"Yeah." Daniel closed the door and fingered his ear nervously. "Um, want something to drink? I was about to make some hot tea." Blatant lie, since he had been daydreaming away when Teal'c pounded on the door. But he suddenly felt the need to do something.

Teal'c gave a slow nod, and Daniel walked to the kitchen area. The Jaffa continued to look around him, taking in the paintings, rubbings, statuettes, pottery, and old weaponry, all of the antiquities and interests that made Daniel's apartment uniquely his own. He set the box down on a table and walked over to a large painting of a red planet, with a prominent blue dot in it's distance. The picture was intricate yet simple, and Teal'c was still staring at it when the kettle whistled.

"Mars," Daniel said as he appeared from around the corner. He handed Teal'c a small mug and sipped from his own. "That's Earth in the distance. It's a rather fantastical idea of what we may look like to 'them'." He grinned. "An old friend gave that to me. He didn't approve of my theories either."

"Then it was a gift given in jest?"

"Sorta. He was like that."

Teal'c caught the past reference. "You no longer speak with him?"

"No," Daniel stared into his cup, then met Teal'c's eyes, "he, uh, he died of cancer shortly before I joined the first mission to Abydos."

"I am sorry," Teal's said softly.

Daniel gave a grateful nod then headed towards the twin sofas. "I didn't mean to blow you off at the park this afternoon."

"Did you succeed in decreasing your workload?"

He considered an outright lie. "Uh, no. No, I really just wanted to come back home." He winced slightly.

Teal'c looked at his mug thoughtfully before setting it down beside his box. "I have brought something for you, DanielJackson." He leaned over and pulled the box to him, carefully raising the thick lid.

Daniel leaned in. "Candles?" He peered at Teal'c over the rim of his glasses.

"I thought a session of Kel-nor-reem may help to ease your mind. It has worked before."

Daniel sat back. "I'm. . .flattered, Teal'c. Really. These. . .are these your candles?"

"I purchased them on the way."

Daniel's eyebrows raised as Teal'c continued to unload the box. "Uh. . .how many?"

"One hundred and two."

"One hundred and. . ." Daniel blinked and looked at his cramped shelves. "Oh boy."

"Do we require more?"

"No! No, one hundred and. . .two. . .is fine. Just. . . fine." He stood and looked around. "Ah, why can't we just have one?"

"The lighting process is essential for deep Kel-nor-reem. It steadies the mind and the breath."

"Right. I always missed that part in our sessions." He looked thoughtful for a moment then started removing piles of books from the end tables. The sofa across from Teal'c was shoved against the wall, and the end tables brought closer in. Teal'c continued to methodically unload his box, and after a slight hesitation Daniel set about distributing the candles. Fifteen minutes later all was set to Teal'c's satisfaction. He produced a box of matches and a large lighting stick. "Incense?" Daniel asked.

"Tel'lac. It is not like the material you are accustomed to but it has it's similarities. It can be used to help the sick reach a deeper healing state."

"So. . .you think I'm sick."

"I did not say so." Teal'c lit the end of the tel'lac, which flared a greenish-gold before dulling into a deep crimson. He handed it to Daniel and turned him towards the first set of candles. "First you must clear your mind. Close your eyes."

Daniel started to turn. "But the stick. . ."

"The stick will burn."

That's what I'm afraid of, Daniel thought to himself as he unwillingly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the warmth of Teal'c's presence. He had meditated with Teal'c several times before, in fact it had become almost a regular routine for them since the events on Arabis. It seemed to strengthen the odd bond that they shared. However, Daniel had a feeling that tonight would be different. He sensed Teal'c ease away, and noticed the slight dimming against his eyelids as lamps were turned off. This left him wondering just how he would be able to see in order to light the candles. Again he felt Teal'c presence behind him, and felt hands on his shoulders as the rich, familiar voice filled the air. "Open your eyes."

Daniel did so, slowly. The throbbing flame that tipped the tal'nac grabbed his attention immediately and he found himself unable to look away. Gently Teal'c guided Daniel's hand toward the first candle. "You must take a deep breath," he said, his voice as soft as his touch. "Take the breath, and hold it as the candle lights." Daniel complied, and the candle flickered. Quickly his hand was guided to the next one. "Now release your breath. You have taken it, borrowed the life force, now you must return it. Exhale. Feel all of the air leave your body." The candle caught flame, and again his hand was shifted.

"Inhale. . ."

"Exhale. . ."

"Inhale. . ."

By his fourteenth candle Daniel was light-headed. By his twenty-fifth he had calmed somewhat, and by thirty-seven he was in a rhythm; in. . .out. . .deep, full breaths and thorough exhalations. Once the last candle was lit he stood still, the rhythm maddeningly broken. Again Teal'c guided him, this time to a cushion on the floor. "You know how to proceed from here. Open your mind." Daniel sat, crossed his legs, closed his eyes. Teal'c did the same, sitting across from him, watching him.

Stilling his body was one thing. Trying to still his mind amongst the current of thoughts was something else entirely. For once he had no focus, no ability to control his mind, or the images within. The frustration he felt reminded him of his experience with the monk on Kehb, when he was told to light a candle with his mind. He had come to understand then that the power he had foolishly thought was his own was indeed someone else's. It had been a rather embarrassing lesson. He pushed past the thought, tried again to concentrate.

"You must relax, DanielJackson."

Daniel opened his eyes and saw Teal'c's own glittering over the flames. "Have you been watching me?"

"You are not yet relaxed."

"Watching me isn't going to help that."

"We will try again.

Daniel shifted. "Look, Teal'c I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but. . ."

Teal'c's response was firm. "We will try again." He left no room for debate.

Daniel sighed and wriggled, then settled himself for another attempt. The flames danced across the backs of his eyelids, the heating room flushing his cheeks. He was suddenly aware of his heartbeat and measured his breathing to match the steady pulse. The breaths became more shallow, longer, and his head cleared. And the voice came.

Who are you?

I am a blade of grass in the wind. I am the pulse of the ground beneath your feet.

Oma?

A name is merely a distinction, a familiarity. You are beyond that.

Shifu? Daniel tried to reach out but felt his consciousness pull back with a snap. He opened his eyes in frustration. Teal'c was sitting straight and tall, chin lifted, breathing deep and heavy. Once more his glittered gaze met Daniel's.

"Again," he said softly. Daniel's eyes closed, and his hot breath cooled and turned shallow, yet filled his lungs with each inhale and emptied completely as he exhaled. The stiffness ebbed, and there was a faint metallic hint in the back of his throat that would have startled him had he not been so relaxed. He allowed the breath to enter through his nose and felt the coolness as it entered, the warmth as it left. His mind was his own, yet not his at all, merely a fragment of the great expanse that he frequently wondered about. He was only vaguely aware of his body. The muscled twitched then fell heavy. His mind, his own mind, his own thoughts, fears, emotions, lusts, grievances, joys, all lay there before him in candid shots like frozen templates in time. All his. Dark brows drew tight over pinched eyes, some of the images before him he didn't want to see, but they were there, plastered stubbornly against the backs of his eyelids. They didn't feel right, these images. They twisted and turned before him, flattened prisms of life events that took mere moments to enact, yet the impact was eternal. Some were colored beams of light, others were shadows, still others were photos of memories. His eyes fell upon one of a candle, and the flame flickered and grew, filling his vision with a white-hot light that he raised his hands against. Suddenly he found himself standing in a white room.

Daniel caught his breath and looked around him, spinning in place, taking in. . .nothing. There was nothing, nothing to see, just stark blankness. He ran over to the walls, running long fingers over each surface, searching for a crack, a fissure, anything. There were no windows, nothing but white hardness that boxed him in with little air to spare. He continued to run his fingers along the walls, then the flat of his hand, then with sudden anger he fisted the barrier. No doors, no way out. He was trapped inside a huge cement cell, and he would suffocate.